


Before the Forge Goes Cold

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:46:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26308783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: A stolen moment in Branka's forge with her second Hespith while Oghren's away fighting with the army.
Relationships: Branka/Hespith (Dragon Age)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	Before the Forge Goes Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [19thcenturyfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/19thcenturyfox/gifts).



“You all right M’Lady?” Hespith asks as she peers round the door after a few muffled curses.

“Branka.” Exasperation laces her tone with the correction, so much so that Hespith doesn’t need to see Branka’s face to know she’s rolling her eyes right now.

“Of course M’Lady,” she says, stepping in and closing the door.

“I will start throwing my tools at you if you keep calling me that.” The threat is somewhat lessened when all Hespith can see is one rather pert backside and legs flailing in the air. Branka will have trouble throwing anything at her like that. “Actually, come help me out?”

Hespith snickers. “Why? I’m enjoying the view.” There’s a muffled curse from inside the barrel and one hand clears the top to flash a rude hand sign at her. “Honestly, what possessed you to try and dive in there anyway?”

“Hespith. This is an order. From your Paragon. To come help me out. Or I will keep my ass out of your reach for a week.”

“As your second, it’s my job to watch your ass,” Hespith says as she puts her axe down to go and haul her smith out of the barrel she’s managed to get stuck in.

“I don’t think,” Branka says with a huff as she pops out, “that’s entirely what was meant by ‘watch my back.’” She holds her hand up, a hammer clutched tightly in her grasp. “And I knocked it off the anvil.”

“No?” Hespith shrugs, “I must have got the wrong orders then.”

Branka snorts, a very unladylike sound and slaps the rescued hammer down on her anvil. “Or the right orders,” she says with a waggle of her eyebrows. “I feel like retiring early, who knows when the army will get back from the deep roads, it's lonely without my dearest husband.”

Hespith shakes her head. There's nothing dearest about Oghren at all, especially after the last argument they had about the expedition Branka is planning. Probably a good thing he decided to go out with the army, Branka would have been far more dangerous to him than any darkspawn. “You need your poor overworked second to keep you company?”

The smile Branka tosses over her shoulder as she opens the door is wicked, and full of promises. Hespith smirks and settles in beside her as they leave. And if she is a step behind as a good second should be - well, it is perfect for watching her ass.


End file.
